


Child's Play

by neoncity



Category: Daredevil (Comics), Daredevil (TV), Deadpool - All Media Types, Marvel (Comics), Marvel 616, Marvel Cinematic Universe, Spider-Man (Tom Holland Movies), Spider-Man - All Media Types, The Punisher (TV 2017)
Genre: 5+1 Things, Gen, Identity Reveal, Secret Identity, Team Red
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-01-18
Updated: 2020-11-15
Packaged: 2021-02-27 12:42:26
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 14,328
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22307365
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/neoncity/pseuds/neoncity
Summary: "Foggy, this is Peter"Matt said, lying facedown on the floor.Peter raised a spoonful of cereal in greeting.What the fuck.With Spiderman hanging around Daredevil so often, it was bound to happen sooner or later for Peter Parker to meet Matt Murdock's friends.How exactly they'd meet, that happened in a variety of ways.
Relationships: Brett Mahoney & Franklin "Foggy" Nelson, Brett Mahoney & Matt Murdock, Brett Mahoney & Peter Parker, Frank Castle & Matt Murdock, Frank Castle & Peter Parker, Franklin "Foggy" Nelson & Peter Parker, Karen Page & Peter Parker, Margaret Murdock & Peter Parker, Matt Murdock & Franklin "Foggy" Nelson, Matt Murdock & Karen Page, Matt Murdock & Peter Parker, May Parker (Spider-Man) & Peter Parker, Michelle Jones & Peter Parker
Comments: 224
Kudos: 1871





	1. Foggy

"Matt."  
Foggy rang the doorbell again.  
"Matt!" he said again, this time louder. Honestly, sometimes it was like the man was deaf, not blind. Foggy rapped on the door twice, then sighed. It was Saturday morning, sure.  
But Matt wasn't one to sleep in late, and most importantly, he'd told Foggy _specifically_ that he was free this morning so that they could work on an important court case together. The court hearing was next week. Foggy wanted to smack Matt sometimes. Often.  
Very often.  
Foggy set down his box of files and unzipped his bag, digging through it until he pulled out a ring of keys. He inserted one into the doorknob and turned, the door opening with a slight click.  
Sure, he could've done that from the beginning, but foggy preferred to ring and have Matt open for him rather than enter his friend's house uninvited.  
He picked up his files again and walked in. The door shut behind him.  
"Matt?" he repeated, a tinge of worry in his voice.  
"oh hey Foggy" Matt's voice greeted.  
Foggy's relief at hearing his friend's voice was short lived as he walked into the living room and took in the scene.  
Matt lay face down on the floor, his daredevil suit torn. Blood was smeared all over the floor around him.  
Of fucking course. 

"Oh my God " was the first thing Foggy blurted out.  
Annoyance mixed with worry and frustration bubbled together.  
"We were supposed to work on the Carston murder, dammit Matt" he snapped  
The box he'd held fell to the ground with a thud.  
"Give me like, 20 minutes" Matt said, unmoving.  
"Do I need to call Claire?" Foggy asked, a wave of worry rushing through him. Granted, the amount of blood on the floor wasn't as bad as other times he'd seen, but it was still alarming. Matt was well enough to talk, at least.  
"You could've gotten on the couch at least" Foggy added disgruntledly.  
"I would've just gotten blood on it" Matt replied.  
"Buy a sheet of plastic to put on it or something to keep it clean, then. At least it's better than you passing out on the floor. Honestly Matt do you care more about how clean your couch is than your own wellbeing?"  
Matt grumbled.  
"No, I don't need Claire" he said.  
"Got here last night, did a quick assessment of my injuries and deducted I was going to be fine"  
Foggy opened his mouth.  
"Then the kid called me and my assessment skills idiotic, insisted on patching me up and then we both passed out" Matt continued.  
Foggy closed his mouth.  
"I'm sorry am I missing something? The kid?? Who's the kid?" he asked.  
"hi" a voice chirped from behind him.  
Foggy jumped.  
A teenage boy was sitting on the kitchen counter, legs dangling. Concentrated as he was on Matt, Foggy had completely missed him. He wore Matt's black hoodie, baggy grey sweatpants and was barefoot. His tousled brown hair was wet, like he'd just taken a shower. A box of Reese's Puffs and a carton of milk sat next to him. As Foggy stared at him incredulously, he brought a spoonful of cereal to his mouth, which Foggy could vaguely register had come from the bowl the teen held cradled with one arm.  
"That's the kid" Matt called.  
Foggy spun around.  
"I figured" he snapped. "And who is he? What's he doing here?" he said, throwing his hands in the air.  
"Yea Red, you should introduce us" the teen agreed, pouring more cereal into his bowl.  
"aright" said Matt, his voice laden with sarcasm. "Foggy, Peter. Peter, Foggy. Boom. You're introduced."  
The boy, Peter, raised a spoon in greeting. He seemed to be enjoying Foggy's confusion immensely.  
Don'tsmackmattdontsmackmattdontsmackmatt.  
"Matthew Michael Murdock" Foggy snapped.  
Peter snorted. "Your initials are MMM? That's like Wade's, but upside down. Also, we can call you M&ms."  
"don't you dare" replied Matt.  
Wait. Foggy's mind wheeled to a stop.  
Peter's use of the nickname Red. The mention of the name Wade. It sounded vaguely familiar, Foggy could remember it from somewhere. Finally, his eyes landed on Matt, in full costume.  
"You're involved with all this" he realized, gesturing vaguely at Matt's suit.  
"Yes" Peter said. He leaned forward on his elbows. "This seems fun, let's see how far you get. Like 20 questions or something."  
"We are not playing 20 questions" Matt said firmly.  
Foggy ran his fingers through his hair. "So like, you're a vigilante too? Or just involved with them, like Claire?"  
How did a teen get involved with vigilante justice anyway?  
"Kid just tell him." Matt told Peter. "I'm going to get enough shit for this without you dragging it out."  
"Fine, I'm Spiderman" Peter said casually.  
Foggy sat down on the couch, hard. He stared at Peter, comparing the kid with a mental image of Spiderman. Spiderman was a _high school student_.  
Foggy's mind flashed to all the news he'd seen, the clips of Spiderman catching buses and getting shot, staggering away from crime scenes with bullet holes in his suit, records of him stopping rapes and taking out gangs, everything flooded back to him.  
"He's a fucking kid" he yelled at Matt.  
"I'm 15" Peter said indignantly.  
Foggy felt like he was going to pass out.  
"Not helping Parker" Matt told Peter.  
"You - he's 15- how can you -"  
"I was doing this long before Matt stepped in" Peter defended. "He's done nothing but help me"  
"If I could stop the kid from doing what he does, I would." Matt told him. He'd finally sat up. " Believe me, I've tried. But I can't. He's stubborn as fuck. The best I can do is make sure he gets the shit beat out of him as _rarely_ as possible"  
"Still happens, like, all the time" Peter added.  
"Still not helping kid"  
Foggy could feel a headache developing. "Why- how did you even meet in the first place?"  
He'd wanted to ask why Peter was doing this, at fifteen, but if there was any chance it was something like Matt's back story, well, he'd rather not ask.  
"I pushed him off a building"  
"He pushed me off a building"  
They answered together.  
Foggy stared.  
"I pushed him off a building" Peter clarified.  
"Why" asked Foggy.  
"He crept up on me and I reacted on reflex" shrugged Peter. "Then I swung down to apologize and he punched me."  
"Why" Foggy repeated.  
"Reflex" called Matt.  
If there was anything Foggy was taking away from this encounter it was that vigilantes' either had really good or really bad reflexes. He hadn't decided which of the two it was yet.  
"So after he punched me I apologized and he apologized for punching me and we went our separate ways. Then a few days later I met Wade when he kidnapped me for a hit and mid kidnapping Matt came in and yelled at Wade for kidnapping a kid." Peter continued. "Then Wade let me go and now we're all friends" he finished.  
He turned over the Reese's Puffs box over, looking disappointed when nothing came out. Peter hopped off the counter  
"Matt, what other food do you have?" he asked, walking to the fridge.  
"Peter you better not eat everything in my fright again" Matt threatened.  
"Count on it" Peter walked back to the kitchen counter, balancing ham, cheese, a bottle of mayo and bread.  
"Who's Wade?" asked Foggy, still trying to wrap his mind around the whole kidnapping thing.  
"Deadpool." Peter replied, assembling his sandwich.  
"Parker make me a sandwich too." Matt said.  
"Kay"  
"Are you sure hanging around Deadpool is the best idea? He's, well, Deadpool" Foggy addressed Peter directly this time.  
Matt was one thing, Foggy knew his friend, and though he knew Matt did some shifty things at night, Foggy knew he would take care of the kid. Deadpool, on the other hand? A whole different story.  
"I know." Peter replied. "But it's cool. We're friends."  
Foggy looked at Matt pleadingly.  
Matt laughed. "You should see them together, Fogs. Wade would do anything for Peter."  
All right then. Foggy gave up trying to reason with them.  
Matt got up, finally, and headed to the bathroom.  
Foggy looked at Peter, unsure what to say now that they were alone. Peter was plowing through his fourth sandwich. Foggy figured that the combination of a teenage boy, superpowers and all the work he did at night on top of a normal day would build up quite an appetite.  
"Do your parents know?" Foggy asked.  
"They're dead." Peter said bluntly.  
Of course they were. Foggy could've smacked himself. Avoid the tragic backstory, he reminded himself.  
He racked his brain for something to say. Honestly, what did a 15 year old kid do these days?  
"Um, so how's school?" he says tentatively.  
Apparently that was the right thing to say, as Peter immediately brightened.  
"Good! We had a decathlon race last week, and we won! There were people from so many colleges, even MIT came to watch us, but even though they probably only came cause Mr. Stark was there, I think they looked impressed at how we did! Afterwards Mr. Stark told me I did good and that if MIT didn't take me he'd personally go there and make sure they changed their mind and I told him it wasn't necessary-"  
The more Peter talked, the more he relaxed, and Foggy realized the kid had been ever so slightly tense ever since he had walked in. Foggy was probably the least threatening looking person ever, but revealing something like a secret identity, especially to a stranger must be intimidating, no matter who the recipient was.  
Foggy wondered why Peter had decided to trust him with it.  
He looked at the boy, chattering excitedly, his floppy brown hair and angelic eyes, and felt a pang in his chest, not for the first time.  
Inwardly, he wondered how many other vigilantes were that young.  
A few minutes later, Matt walked out of the bathroom wearing normal clothing, his dark hair wet and wringing a towel in his hands. He tossed the towel on the floor, rubbing it back and forwards with his foot, until all the bloodstains had disappeared. Satisfied, he picked it up, surveying the scene with amusement.  
Foggy winced at the bruises on Matt's face.  
"Peter, I need to work with Foggy, so if you could stop talking his ear off, that'd be great. Also, you need to go home."  
Peter pouted.  
"Your aunt's going to be worried." Matt said gently.  
Peter sighed, and walked towards the door, disappearing behind the wall. "I don't have any shoes" he said.  
"There should be a pair of sneakers near the door. Take those." Matt told him.  
"The black ones?"  
"Do I look like I know?" replied Matt.  
Peter reappeared, wearing too big black sneakers. Along with his oversized hoodie and sweatpants, he looked quite odd.  
He rushed forward, giving Matt a hug. Matt hugged him back fondly.  
"You should bring some of your spare clothing here, considering how often you stay here. I'm missing like four of my hoodies."  
"They're nice hoodies" Peter mumbled into his shirt.  
"Exactly why I want them back. Also, you've eaten about 600$ worth of my food."  
"sorry. I don't have money but I have a coupon for a taco if you want that." Peter said, staring up at Matt.  
God, the kid was adorable.  
Matt ruffled his hair affectionately. "You keep the coupon."  
As Peter stepped back, Foggy cleared his throat. "Peter, if you ever need an attorney, for anything, anything at all, you can.." he let his sentence die off, unsure how to finish.  
Peter smiled. "Got it, thanks."  
He walked to the door, and, with a last backwards glance and a small wave, left.  
Matt smirked at Foggy. "So?" he asked.  
"So what?" Foggy replied.  
"What do you think of him?"  
"He's a good kid. He's really sweet." Foggy said.  
"It only took, what, 15 minutes? For him to get you completely wrapped around his little finger" Matt teased.  
He crossed over to the counter and took a bite of the sandwich Peter had made him.  
"You should talk" Foggy retorted. "From the way you act around each other, he might as well be your son."  
Matt laughed. "You should see how protective Wade is. Stark too."  
"Stark? As in, Tony Stark?" Peter did mention him quite a bit while they were talking, but Foggy hadn't realized they were that close.  
"Oh yea. He'd kill for peter. We all would. And I have a no killing rule."  
After having met him, Foggy could see why.  
Goddamn.


	2. Frank

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> When Frank arrived on the scene, what he had been expecting to see was a dumpster with an incapacitated Matt Murdock lying in the middle of it. 
> 
> What he _hadn't_ expected to see was a teenage boy lifting Matt Murdock out of said dumpster like the 185 pound man weighed no more than a sack of potatoes.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> First time writing Frank Castle, so I hope it's not too bad lol

When Matt had called him, delirious and half unconcious, telling him through the pain that he needed help, Frank had braced himself for the typical load of bullcrap that came with having to deal with Matt Murdock.   
He hadn't particularly _wanted_ to come, it was making him miss an hit he'd been planning for months -actually, knowing Matt, there was a slight chance he'd hurt himself on purpose and called Frank to come help him to come get him to push off the hit. 

Fine, maybe that was a bit far fetched -Matt was more of a rousing yelling match on justice mid beating the shit out of each other than a faking an injury to deter Frank kind of person, but seriously, why the hell had Matt called him, out of all people?  
Because Claire was out of town and Red trusted him for whatever reason, right.   
Besides, Frank figured Karen would be quite mad at him if he just let Matt die.   
And _fine_ , maybe he didn't want Matt to die either.

When Frank arrived on the scene, what he had been expecting to see was a dumpster with an incapacitated Matt Murdock lying in the middle of it.   
What he _hadn't_ expected to see was a teenage boy lifting Matt Murdock out of said dumpster like the 185 pound man weighed no more than a sack of potatoes.  
The teen turned around, meeting Frank's incredulous gaze and froze, nearly dropping Matt in his surprise.  
"Um" he said.

On top of Matt maybe but hopefully not currently bleeding out, Frank now had to deal with this idiot teen that had found Daredevil in a dumpster by chance and had decided to play the hero and try to help.   
Help that, had Frank not been there, would probably be useful to Matt, but Frank _was_ there, and he didn't need anyone's help dealing with Matt, let alone the help of some random kid he'd just met who looked barely old enough to be in high school.

He advanced towards the two, staring down the teen. That combined with his whole skull vest and guns thing he had going on should have be enough for him to get the idea and move along, but Frank gave him a verbal warning to top it off.  
"Kid, drop Daredevil and get out of here. This didn't concern you"  
The kid hesitated, eyeing the skull on Frank's vest, but didn't budge.   
Frank was half considering threatening the kid away a gun.  
The kid knelt down, gently laying Matt down on the floor.  
"Matt trusts you so I trust you" he said.

What?

"We need to get him to Claire. He's hurt badly"  
The teen said, picking up his phone and clicking on what Frank presumed was Claire's contact and letting it ring.  
Then Matt spoke up.  
"Frank?" He groaned, his eyes still closed.  
"No, it's me, dipshit" the kid answered.  
Well, that confirmed it. The kid and Matt knew each other.

Wonderful. 

Not.

Frank dropped down next to Matt, assessing the severity of his injuries, though, judging by the red that already stained the kid's hands, he could tell it was bad enough.  
"Claire's out of town for the week, she's not going to answer" he told the kid.  
The kid's eyes were wide with panic.  
"Then what are we gonna do?"   
Frank's gloves and sleeves were now soaked in blood. There was so much of if, he couldn't even tell where most of it was coming from. 

He had seen enough. 

He slid his arms under Matt, picking him up, though not without some effort. The man was _heavy_ , how had the teen make picking him up seem so easy?  
He walked down the alley with fast, clipped steps. With Claire out of town, his best chance lay with the only other person with medical training that he could trust Matt with; Matt's own mother, the nun -however that worked out was something he'd never bothered to try to figure out.

He tried his best to ignore the boy, who had followed him and kept trying to talk to him.   
"Where are we taking him?" The kid asked.  
Frank stopped in his tracks, looking at the kid with such annoyance and impatience that the boy physically took a step back.  
" _I'm_ taking him to someone who can help, you, on the other hand, are going to leave"  
He spun back around, satisfied that would be enough to get the kid off his back. 

It wasn't.

"How are you going to get there?" The kid asked, easily keeping up with his pace. 

To be fair, Frank hadn't thought of that yet.   
Sister Maggie was a skilled healer, but the orphanage was far, and, while this _was_ New York, he doubted any taxi driver would be willing to pick up the Punisher and Daredevil, if only not to get blood on the inside of their car.  
"You don't have a ride there, do you" the kid guessed.  
" _Leave_."  
The teen held up his phone -it was of the latest Starkphone model, now that Frank could see it better-, which he must've picked up off the floor after his unsuccessful attempt at calling Claire before following Frank.  
"I can get us a trustworthy ride" the kid said readily.

Fuck it. 

"Fine" Frank said begrudgingly.  
The teen sagged in relief, and made a quick phone call.   
"Hey Dopinder, can you come pick us up?"  
There was a pause.  
The kid then rattled off the address of a road Frank knew to be nearby.  
"It's just me, Daredevil and, uh, the Punisher"  
With that, he side eyed Frank.   
Frank ignored it.   
"Okay, thanks dude" He finished.  
The kid hung up, slipping the Starkphone that was way too expensive for any normal kid to be able to afford back into his pocket.  
Unless he was the kid of some rich fuck, but Matt didn't hang out with rich fucks. He barely hung out at all, actually, if not with his two friends Karen and Foggy. Which once again raised the question.   
How did a teenage boy know Daredevil's identity?  
"Our ride will be waiting for us one street down" the kid told Frank.  
Frank acknowledged it with a nod, panting slightly with the effort of carrying Matt for so long.   
The kid glanced at him with slight impatience. "I'll carry him. It'll be faster"  
Before Frank could even begin to open his mouth to answer that, the kid had already pulled Matt from his arms with remarkable strength and raced ahead, at a speed that would be impressive had he been running normally, but even more so when carrying a grown adult.  
Frank raced after him, letting out a string of curses.

A New York cab was waiting for them at the corner of the street, its yellow, albeit a little dented look so normal that Frank shot the kid a skeptical look.  
The kid opened the door to the backseat, getting inside along with Matt, while Frank took the front.   
The doors shut and the cab sped off.  
"Hello Peter" the cab driver greeted in a distinctly Indian accent. "Where to?"  
The boy, Peter, slumped against the window. "The Punisher can tell you that Dopinder"  
The cab driver glanced at Frank, who gave him the name of their destination: Saint Agnes Orphanage.

"It's good to see you again, Peter" the cab driver, Dopinder, said amiably, as if there weren't two vigilante in his cab, one of which was half dead and probably bleeding all over the backseat. "And Mr. Devil, too, even though he's not conscious. Is he conscious?"  
The cab driver turned around to check, _while still driving_ and Peter shook his head.   
"Keep your eyes on the road" Frank growled at him.   
Dopinder turned around and continued driving like it was nothing.  
"And it's nice to meet you, Mr. Punisher"  
Frank shot Peter an look.   
Peter shrugged. "He's Deadpool's driver, so he's really not phased by much."

Ah, let's bring Deadpool into this, too.   
Frank had given up trying to figure out who the fuck this kid was and why he seemed to be best buddies with half the vigilantes in the city.

Peter glanced at Matt, looking concerned. "Dopinder, can we go a bit faster?"

"Depends, is breaking the law a problem?" Dopinder asked.

Peter shrugged.

The cab sped up remarkably, and Frank stiffened at the sharp, screeching turns and multitude of signs they nearly plowed through. Laws broken there, all right. Forget Matt, at the rate they were going, they were lucky if any of them made it to the orphanage alive.   
Dopinder seemed completely unbothered by it all, humming along to a cheerful song that had come on the radio.

The sudden jolts seemed to have woken Matt up, too, and there was a groan from the backseat, along with shuffling as Matt seemed to momentarily come to his senses.  
"Peter, is that you? Shouldn't you be in school?"   
"How on _earth_ is that your first priority?" Peter demanded.  
"What time is it?" Matt asked groggily.  
Frank checked the time on the front of the car.  
"It's 7pm" he said.  
"Frank? Are you here too?"  
Frank leaned over the seat.  
"Don't die on me, Red."  
Matt groaned in response.

Peter started talking with Matt, probably in an effort to keep him conscious.  
"I was passing through Hell's Kitchen and heard a person breathing in a dumpster, and obviously it was you, because no one else has your uncanny ability of falling into dumpsters. You know, I've gone dumpster diving before, but I've never actually fished out a whole human idiot before."  
So the kid had gone dumpster diving before, but he also owned a top of the line Starkphone. Frank wasn't bad at math, but he didn't even have to be to be able to tell that didn't add up.  
"Then The Punisher showed up, I'm assuming you called him?" Peter continued.  
Matt muttered his assent.  
"Yea, I figured. We pulled you out and you were unconscious and bleeding badly, still are in fact, so we're getting you help"   
No reply this time.  
"Matt?" Peter said tentatively.  
He was out again.  
Peter cast Frank a pleading look. "Please tell me we're almost there"  
Frank, in turn, turned to Dopinder.  
Dopinder nodded. 

A few minutes later, they pulled up in front of the church. Thankfully, even though Mass had just ended, there weren't people milling around outside. Or, at least, they were few enough not to notice the cab that arrived to a stop in front of the church, the three people who got out of it -one of them being carried- and rushing in, and the cab speeding off again.

The sisters at the orphanage had dealt with this sort of stuff often enough to know the drill. The first nun they came across just took one look at them, spun around and left, which Frank figured was an appropriate reaction. Hell, that's what he'd do too if he could. 

A few seconds later, Sister Maggie came out of the same room the nun had gone into, looking like she wanted to smack someone.

Matt, probably.

She rushed them through a door on the other side of the church, and through a gate that lead to a flight of stone stairs leading downward, until they reached an large underground room, where a bed was already laying in a corner. Peter lay Matt on it, then stepped back awkwardly as Maggie starting checking him over.  
"Go to the infirmary and get me more bandages from the closet. And get me sisters Lucy and Mary" she told Frank.  
She glanced at Peter.   
"Who on earth are you?"  
Peter shrugged helplessly.  
"Whoever you are, get me a bucket of water from the sink over there" Sister Maggie said.

When Frank came back, the two nuns and a bagful of bandages in tow, Peter was sitting awkwardly on a box next to the bed, doing his best to evade the questions Sister Maggie directed at him every now and then. 

The nuns, who's posture in Frank's presence could only be described as "tense", got right to work, their sole focus becoming their patient as they methodically unraveled bandages and cleaned Matt's wounds, blocking out any aspect of the outside world.  
With two new pairs of helping hands, Sister Maggie seemed to relax a bit. She turned to Frank with gratitude in her eyes.  
"Thank you for helping him. We can take it from here"  
It was both an offer and a firm request for them to leave.  
Frank nodded, making a move to walk out.  
Maggie turned to Peter.   
"Same goes for you. Whoever you are"  
Peter glanced anxiously at Matt's unmoving form.  
"You can come see him later" Sister Maggie said.  
"Yea, I'm just going to leave now" Peter said lamely.  
Frank and Peter walked out the church undisturbed, in silence.  
Peter was looking over his hoodie, trying unsuccessfully to scrub some blood out of it.

Once they got out, the sky was already an inky black. Frank turned to Peter, meaning to ask him once and for all who the fuck he was.   
But Peter had already disappeared.

That wasn't the last Frank saw of Peter.   
Just the next day, Frank found himself standing in front of the bed, as he'd come to see how Matt was doing, and there was Peter again.  
Frank sat down heavily on the box Peter had been sitting on the night before.  
"You never told me you had a kid, Red"  
"He's not my kid. You know I'm not nearly old enough to have a fifteen year old son"  
Peter nodded in agreement.  
Frank raised an eyebrow at the two of them. 

Peter was hugging Matt, who was sitting up in the bed propped up with a pillow, arms wrapped around Matt's neck and face buried in his shoulder, like he'd been since the moment Frank had arrived, maybe even before.  
"He gets clingy when I get hurt" Matt explained, gently extricating himself from Peter's grasp.

Frank was getting a headache.   
"Red, who the _fuck_ is Peter"  
Peter shrugged.

Matt shrugged.

The bastards.

Frank didn't see Peter again after that.  
Then, a few days later, Frank met Spiderman for the first time.

And then Frank finally understood.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading y'all


	3. Maggie

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is more slow paced than the other chapters so far, so I hope it isn't boring, but since I'd already introduced Maggie in the previous chapter, I figured I might as well give her her own.  
> Like Frank, I've never written Maggie before, so I hope I didn't do too bad!

Elisabeth was down in the infirmary again with a stomach flu, the seven year old flopping around and complaining about it to anyone who would listen. Despite her theatrics, Maggie suspected there was an element of truth in them. 

Something in the food was Maggie's first thought, albeit none of the other children had had problems with it, so allergies, maybe? Maggie folded a blanket and placed it back onto the shelf, racking her brain trying to remember what food they'd eaten the night before. 

Elizabeth had stopped complaining, and a quick backwards glance confirmed Maggie's hypothesis to be correct, the girl was fast asleep. Maggie leaned down to pick up another fresh blanket from the basketful of sheets she'd pulled out of the washing mashine, patiently folding it and setting that too on the shelf. 

The majority of the sheets would go to the children's rooms, but some remained here, as the bedsheets in the infirmary needed to be changed quite often. 

Maggie cast an inquisitive eye at the third bedsheet she pulled up. Light marks covered the sheet, memories of ancient stains.  
Faint, almost imperceptible, but yet, still there.   
Blood was the hardest to get out, especially when dry. And, unfortunately, dry was how the blood on the bedsheets had been when Maggie had gone downstairs to check on Matthew, only to find the room empty and him gone. 

Matt had arrived, or well, been brought here just the past week, by the Punisher -a person Maggie was regrettably familiar with-, and a boy.

Like always, Matthew had only remained a few days before deeming himself fit to move - even when he was clearly not- and left without so much of a trace. Maggie had silently cursed the man, gathered up the bedsheets and brought them upstairs to wash, then layed the bed with fresh sheets, just in case.

A pretty standard procedure really, one she repeated every few months when Matt's bloodied and usually unconcious masked persona made an appearance, and she hadn't thought much of it.   
The Punisher also made an appearance every now and then, and Maggie had learned that he was one of the things she really shouldn't question lest she loose her sanity trying to deal with Matt. 

The boy, though.   
That was different. 

First of all, he was young. 

Not a child, but clearly not an adult yet.

Secondly, he knew Matt. He _really_ knew Matt, something that couldn't be said for the majority of the people who met him. As in, not just blind laywer Matthew Micheal Murdock, and not just Daredevil either, he knew him to be both. 

Thirdly, he'd obviously had some experience with this.   
After Maggie had sent the Punisher up to get bandages and help, the boy had listed off the wounds he'd assessed while on the car ride there -which, to be fair, had helped Maggie immensely-, but with an extensively scary amount of detail and knowledge of injuries for a normal teenage boy to have. 

Those last two factors were Maggie's first clue that this was far from a normal boy. 

But who was he?

That question bounced back and forth in Maggie's head for a few days, as she mulled it over and tried to give herself an answer. In the end, she'd come up with nothing.  
She decided this was another thing to file under her "Matt's bullshit drawer", like the Punisher, and that she wouldn't question it. 

She picked up the now empty basket and walked out of the infirmary. It wasn't like she didn't have enough on her mind anyway.

Days passed, and, with time, Maggie had almost completely forgotten about the boy.  
Until one day, when she saw him again.

The weather was getting warmer, so Maggie and a few other sisters had taken to bringing the younger children out to the nearby park. The kids had been forced to stay inside for a great part of the past few months, given the freezing weather, and they had practically been bouncing off the walls. 

Now that spring was around the corner, trips outside would be more frequent, and Maggie was looking forward to them, to letting the antsy children calm down as they chased each other in the park, the situation held under control by Maggie and a few other nuns, in her case keeping a watchful eye from a distance, sat on a bench.

It was on one of these trips that she first saw him.   
He was sitting under a tree, not too far from her, legs crossed, intent on an open book he held in his lap. Maggie hadn't meant to stare, or look at him at all actually, but in that mere glance she'd cast him, the boy looked up, eyes meeting Maggie's. In his eyes was the same faint recognition Maggie knew to be reflected in her own face. 

Maggie looked away immediately, pushing her attention back to the children she was supervising, feeling if anything the slightest bit uncomfortable at the curious stare she knew the boy to be casting her.  
When they gathered everyone up to bring them back to the orphanage, Maggie looked back at the tree. The boy was gone.

A week later, on yet another trip to the park, children trailing after her like ducklings, the boy was there, once again. From a bench, he looked at Maggie, tilting his head in greeting. Maggie nodded back at him.

For a few weeks, that was the extent of their relationship. The boy was often, though not always, there when Maggie visited the park, sometimes sitting alone on a bench or under a tree or laying in the grass, listening to music or reading, but more often sitting on one of the dirty plastic blue seats at the bus station nearby.  
Maggie stopped paying attention to him almost completely after a while. 

One day, when they were rounding up all the kids to go back to the orphanage, Sister Lucy came running up to Maggie.  
"We can't find Jackson"   
"How long has he been missing?" Maggie asked sharply.  
"He was on the swing earlier, about half an hour ago? That's the last we saw him"   
Maggie's worry spikened. Half an hour was long enough for an eight year old boy to get very far, but surely Jackson was more sensible than to just run off like that?  
"Make sure no one else wanders off" she told Lucy. "And ask the children when they last saw him"  
She hurried off towards the swings, where he'd last been seen. Another Sister came up to her from them, shaking her head.  
"I've already checked around there"  
Maggie stopped in her tracks, feeling panic rise up. The park was near the city center, it was filled with large roads and busy intersections. They needed to find Jackson, and soon.

Ten minutes later, Jackson still hadn't made an appearance, and Maggie was _panicking_ . She did her best to hide it from the other adults, everyone running around like chickens with their head cut off, though she doubted she was as successful as she hoped.   
Even the other children seemed to have realised something was up, as all had gone quiet save some hushed whispering, huddled in the middle of the park.

Then a voice, an unmistakably, young, unmistakably _Jackson's_ voice rang out, and Maggie turned towards the source of it, a wave of relief washing over her.  
Jackson was trotting happily towards them, completely unperturbed and unaware of the new grey hairs he'd just given her. Next to him, leading him towards Maggie, was the boy, the one that had brought Matt, the one from the bus station, attentively listening to Jackson's chatting and nodding in agreement every now and then. 

Maggie rushed towards them. 

"Where on earth did you go? You know you're not supposed to go wandering off"   
She looked Jackson up and down to make sure he wasn't hurt.   
Apart from some mud smeared on his knees, he seemed unharmed.

Jackson blinked at her owlishy. "There was a butterfly" He left it at that, seeming satisfied it provided a complete answer.

It didn't.

"I saw him wander off across the street away from the park, and he seemed young to be by himself so I figured I should go check on him" the boy clarified.   
A wave of gratitude came over Maggie, and she looked at the boy gratefully.  
He shoved his hands in his pockets, looking embarrassed.  
"Thank you.." Maggie trailed off.  
The boy smiled. "Peter. I'm Peter"

Peter approached her the next time at the park.  
"How's Jackson?"  
"Annoyed he wasn't allowed to come today"   
"Isn't that a bit harsh for just wandering off?"  
"It's just once. Besides, if I didn't enforce stuff like these I'd never be able to keep so many children in line"  
"That's fair"  
He hesitated for a second behind her, then sat down on the edge of the bench.  
"He told me about you. He said you're his mother"  
Peter didn't have to specify who the he in question was, nor did Maggie have to ask.  
"That I am" Maggie answered simply. "On the other hand, he's never told me about you"  
Peter shuffled slightly.  
"Oh, uh, I just work at his office"  
"Is it standard procedure nowadays for law firm employees to know extensive first aid and save unconcious vigilantes from bleeding out?"   
"Probably not?"  
Maggie waited.  
Peter looked like he was regretting having started this conversation. "You pick up stuff like that after knowing him, the other him, for a bit"   
"He trusted his office intern with something like this?"  
Maggie didn't believe that in the slightest.  
Matthew was many things, but open was not one of them, nor was carelessness.  
"He's not- he didn't tell me on purpose but-" Peter began, searching for words.  
Alright.  
"Has anyone ever told you you're a horrible liar?" Maggie asked him. For someone who obviously had things to hide, he was really bad at coming up with a cover story.  
Peter slumped, looking resigned. "Yea, all the time"  
Maggie was quiet.   
"Matthew deals with a lot of things I don't understand. I've given up hope on trying to understand some of it, a lot of it, actually, lest I lose my sanity. I just leave it be. And I think we can both agree that this is one of those things."

"I won't push you on the subject, Peter." She added lightly, in case he hadn't gotten the message   
Peter looked relieved.  
"Thank you"  
Maggie hummed.  
"I really do work at his office, for the record" Peter said. "That's why I'm always here at the park, I'm waiting for the bus to get home"

Like any reasonable human being waiting for the bus, Peter seemed to have chosen the open, clean park over the cheap, plastic, graffiti covered bus station, or at least thats where hed chosen to spend his time when he had to wait for extended periods of time. 

"Where do you live?"  
"Queens"  
Maggie raised an eyebrow.   
"That's quite far"  
Peter shrugged. "I only come twice a week, so the ride isn't too bad. Besides, I get work experience, I get to hang out with Matt and I get payed"  
He paused. "I get payed a _lot_ now that I think about it. I'm pretty sure he's grossly overpaying me"  
Maggie looked him over.   
"Well, it looks like you could use a meal or two"  
"Fast metabolism, that's all. I don't need extra money" he said defensively.  
Gauging from his slender frame, the hole in his shirt and the worn rubber soles of his shoes, it seemed more like he was too proud to take the money than anything else.  
"Well, if you have money you don't need the orphanage could always use some" she said dryly.  
Peter perked up.  
"Do you guys need money?"

Two days later, Tony Stark donated twenty thousand dollars to the orphanage.

Twenty.

Thousand.

To be clear, when Maggie had said they could use some money, it didn't mean they were struggling financially. They were an orphanage run by nuns after all, and there was always some kind generous catholic soul or desperate politician wanting to safe face ready to make donations if ever needed - which it usually wasn't.   
What Maggie had told Peter had been more of a jab at the kid's stubbornness than anything.

What was Maggie even supposed to do with twenty thousand dollars?

Unfortunately, Peter didn't come to the park that week. Nor the next. 

Maggie cornered Matt one Sunday after Mass.  
"Matthew, has Peter been coming to work lately?"  
Matt leaned forward on his cane, completely unperturbed by the question.  
"Why do you ask?"  
Maggie looked around to make sure there wasn't anybody near. "Tony Stark donated twenty thousand dollars to the orphanage"  
"And?"  
Maggie hesitated. "The only reason I could think of, the only thing I could come up with for why he would do that is the one conversation I had with Peter once at a park"  
"Yea that's probably it" Matt agreed.

Well, that confirmed Maggie's hunch but cleared up nothing about Peter. Before Maggie could follow up any of that up, Matt added.  
"Oh, and Peter's not coming because I grounded him"  
"How do you ground a kid who's not yours?"  
"Unless-" Maggie started.  
Matt shook his head. "He's not my kid. And technically the grounding was a join decision I took with the kid's Aunt and Tony Stark. I semi fired him from working at the office for a month"  
Maggie had a feeling the kid's parents weren't in the picture.  
"Is not having to work really a punishment?"  
"For Peter? Yea. Even though he's more into science than law, he loves learning, regardless of the subject. Hes definitely not happy about this"

Maggie was still trying to wrap her head around the fact that _Tony Stark_ knew Peter and knew him well, from what she was hearing. Sure, she'd suspected, but hearing it with her own ears was different.  
"What did Peter even do to warantee this?" She asked.   
"Something he wasn't supposed to"  
Matt looked like he was trying not to laugh.   
"If you really want to know, ask him yourself, next time you see him."

"I hacked into Government files, which apparently, I'm not allowed to do"  
Peter had a bruise on one cheek and bandages around one wrist and on his neck.   
Maggie wasn't sure she'd heard correctly.  
"What?"  
"Hacked my way into government files" Peter repeated glumly.   
"Matt grounded you for..hacking into government files?"   
"No, Tony and my aunt grounded me for hacking the government. Matt grounded me for doing it without him and getting caught for it"

Just when Maggie had started thinking her son could act like a responsible adult. 

"I didn't see anything about such a security breach in the newspaper"   
"Yea, Tony covered it up"  
Maggie couldn't fathom one reason a teenager would need to hack the government, heck, she couldn't even figure out _how_ a teenage could hack the government in the first place, and be so nonchalant about it.   
Despite her promise not to push him, Maggie was so flabbergast she couldn't help ask.  
"How do you- why would you-"  
Peter just shrugged.

When Maggie picked up the newspaper from the doorstep the next day, she hesitated, observing the large shot that covered the whole front page. A picture of Spiderman, beautifuly taken, suspended motionlessly in the air as he leapt from one roof to another, a small, slim figure in respect to the many large buildings that framed the picture. 

Hm.

Maggie brought a handful of children's drawings to the park the next time she went there, much to the other sisters' confusion.  
Peter joined her at the bench, greeting her brightly, and Maggie answered in turn, biding her time.  
After a bit, she pulled out the drawings.   
Peter peered at them curiously.  
"What's that?"  
Maggie layed them out on her lap. "The kids painted these earlier this week, I wanted to show them to you."  
Peter shot her a quizzical look, but picked up the stack.  
Maggie held her breath.  
Peter stopped at the first drawing, then flipped to the second, then to the third, flipping faster and faster. Then he started laughing.  
Maggie watched him intently. 

Peter snickered, and handed her back the drawings, the _Spiderman_ drawings, that Maggie had so carefully selected from the large pile of drawings the children at the orphanage produced in alarming quantities.  
"You could've just asked me, you know?"   
"Well, I thought you'd appreciate fanart of yourself" Maggie said lightly.   
Peter ran his fingers through his hair.  
"Yea, right"  
"So, are you?" Maggie asked, as a final confirmation.  
Peter raised an eyebrow. "Would you believe me if I said no?"  
Fair enough.   
"Oh, can you tell Matt you asked me about it last week? I have a bet riding on it" Peter added.  
"Matt. Right." Maggie repeated.   
Peter peered at her, gauging her expression. "Please don't give him shit for this. Everyone does. He deserves a break"  
There were so many words Maggie wanted to say right now, but only one would come out.  
"Okay"

"A _child_ Matthew!"  
Matt flattened himself against the outer wall of the church, looking like he'd rather be anywhere else. Maggie had waited until all the people had cleared out before chewing him out, lest people see a nun berating a blind man outside a church and getting the wrong idea.  
"Do you even ever _think_?" She continued.  
"First of all, neither of us want me to answer that" Matt replied.  
Maggie stared at him incredulously.  
"Secondly, Peter's here" Matt announced, attempting to slide away from her.  
Maggie spun around, and, sure enough, Peter was walking towards them, hands in his pockets.  
He stopped, taking in the scene in front of him.   
"You _said_ you wouldn't reprimand him"   
He gave Maggie a puppy dog eyed look.   
Maggie gave Matt a pointed look. "Hiding behind a child?"  
"I'm not hiding"  
Another pointed look.  
"It's really not his fault though" Peter protested. "Why does everyone always blame Matt or Tony? I'm _fifteen_ , capable of making my own decisions. I'd be out there fighting crime with or without this moron"   
He pointed at Matt, who promptly smacked him.   
"Hey!" Peter yelped.  
"Don't speak like that about me" Matt deadpanned.  
"Jerk" peter muttered.  
"Idiot"  
" _Pendejo_ "  
"That's not fair I literally taught you that last week in Spanish"  
"Your mistake" Peter shot back.  
"Children stop, both of you" Maggie said.

Surprisingly they complied, turning back towards Maggie expectantly.  
"Alright" Maggie sighed. She gave up.   
"Go ahead and make your stupid life decisions kid. But dear god, stay safe, okay?"  
She knew it was fruitless to say so, but she didn't think her heart could take it. She already had another person to pray for now.

Peter brighted. 

Matt started insulting him in Spanish. Peter retaliated in Russian.

Maggie was ready to throw the two of them out and never see them again.

A month later, Spiderman stumbled, battered and bleeding into the church.

Not another one.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading!
> 
> Anyways if you comment I'll die for you


	4. Brett

One would think that in the entire city of New York, there would be enough serious crime going on for Brett not to get stuck on calls like these. 

Apparently not. 

He pinched the bridge of his nose and closed his eyes briefly. 

The teen the call had been made on stood in front of him, holding a small bag of..hair? In one hand. Brett would bet a hundred bucks the person who'd made the call had been a white, middle aged woman with nothing better to do and a tendency to call the cops for every slight inconvenience. Brett despised those ladies. 

One of them called their precinct at least once a month. Unbeknownst to the captain, they had a running pool of money and whoever managed to guess the reason she was calling in advance took the cash home. Brett had won once, a few months ago, it had been glorious. 

As stupid as they could be, the calls had a right to have someone dispatched to check the situation out, especially in low crime season. 

Like now. 

Which was how Brett ended up here, regretting his life choices and standing in front of a kid -because let's be honest he couldn't be older than seventeen- holding a small ziploc bag of hair. 

"Good afternoon Officer, would you like to buy some cat hair" The boy asked pleasantly.

Brett stared at him flatly.

"Or not?" The boy ventured.

"Kid what are you doing?" 

"Selling cat hair"

Brett once again cursed whatever white lady had made the call. Of all the things to call the cops on, this? Yes, it was weird. Was it the weirdest thing he'd seen this week? Hell no. This was New York City, man. Brett had seen a person dressed as a mailbox, another playing the piano with their feet -which was impressive he had to admit-, and a handful of dancing furries today alone and it wasn't even noon.

"Why are you selling cat hair?" Brett asked as pleasantly as he could. 

"Umm" The boy shuffled his feet. "Why not?"

That was never a good answer in Brett's books. 

"I also have ice cream cones in my pockets" the teen added pleasantly, as if that cleared anything up. He pulled out a slightly crumbled ice cream cone from his pants pocket.

Brett took a deep breath and counted to ten.

"Right, why are you selling cat hair with ice cream cones in your pockets?"

"Lost a bet."

Brett could've bet he was going to say that. With teens, it was usually either that, drunken shit or someone having a midlife crisis at the ripe old age of sixteen.

"Where'd you get the cat hair from?" 

Brett's mom had a cat and it was the hairiest, fluffiest bastard he'd ever seen. Whenever he went over, he'd leave strew with cat hair without trying and despite his best efforts to avoid it, so he doubted animal cruelty was involved in collecting it, but he'd made the whole trip here so he might as well ask.

"I went to my friend's house, she's got a cat. It looses hair like crazy so it wasn't too hard to collect it. Not fun though."

It checked out. He gave the teen a slight warning, figuring it wouldn't hurt anyone, but ultimately his work here was done. 

"Out of curiosity has anyone bought any cat hair?" Brett couldn't resist asking.

The boy frowned. "No. I wasted time, dignity and perfectly ice cream cones. This sucked."

Brett's lips twitched into a slight smile.

"You lost a bet and had to sell cat hair on the street with an ice cream cone in your pocket? Why?"

He couldn't imagine what train of thought or logic would lead to someone choosing that as a punishment. Brett could think of three better dares to do just off the top of his head.

"Uhhhh" The teen finger gunned Brett. "I'm invoking my right to not answer any questions starting now. But you should totally look that up later."

Brett snorted. "Whatever kid. Don't do anything you'll regret."

He shook his head as he walked away.

Brett actually ended up finding out the meaning behind that mystifying call later that day back at the precinct.

He and his coworker, Alina, had been talking in the break room, when Brett offhandedly mentioned what had happened that morning, only for Alina to inform him that was indeed illegal.

Brett wasn't sure he'd heard correctly. 

"What part of that is illegal?" 

He ran what had happened through his head again, but couldn't come up with anything tha could qualify as illegal.

"Two parts of it actually, selling cat or dog hair and having an ice cream cone in your pocket on a Sunday."

Brett stared at her.

She shrugged. "Old laws, man. Obviously no one cares anymore. You can find lists of the stupidest laws of different places online though. That's the only reason I knew about that in the first place."

Brett checked on Google himself later, confirming the ice cream cone and the cat hair law, and coming upon other stupid New York laws, amongst which it was illegal to wear slippers after 10 pm, talk to strangers in the elevator and jump off a building, which was punishable by death. 

That last one seemed pretty easy to enforce.

He revised his earlier opinion of whoever had decided on that dare. Not that he condoned the behavior, but nevertheless breaking useless laws was actually a pretty good dare as they went.

They were harmless enough laws broken, so Brett wasn't worried. He just hoped the teens wouldn't escalate with their shenanigans. 

Brett ended up meeting the same kid again no more than a week later. This time, it was purely by chance that he'd come across him. He'd been walking back to his car from another call -nothing serious-, when he came upon, almost ran into actually, the teen, causing the boy to nearly lose his grasp on his fish.

Brett took a second to confirm his eyes weren't playing tricks on him. 

They were not.

The teen was wearing a shirt with the words "Something smells fishy" on it and holding a large fish in his arms. Brett had to bite the inside of his cheek to keep from laughing.

"What's your name?" 

Not that he really cared, it was more of an attempt to not lose his composure.

"Peter"

"Peter why are-" 

Brett noticed the a detail he hadn't seen before, the word "SUSFISHOUS" writing in large letters in marker on the side of the fish. He was barely holding it together. 

"What's up with the fish?"

Peter glanced at the fish in his hands like he hadn't noticed it. "Oh this? It's a salmon."

Peter seemed to have a habit of giving completely unrelated answers to questions. 

"Perfectly legal" he added with a second thought. 

Brett raised an eyebrow. "Like the ice cream cones and cat hair were legal?"

Judging from the look on Peter's face, he had not been expecting to meet Brett again when he'd told him to look up what he had been doing. 

It seemed that Peter and whoever his friends were had taken the "more stupid" road on their dares rather than the "more illegal" path, something Brett was grateful for.

Shaking his head, he sent Peter along his way. Brett watched him walk down the sidewalk, the fish's tail bobbing comically, much to people's confusion.

Brett did not know what this kid had going on in life, but he sure as hell was having fun with it.

* * *

Brett had been informed he was going to have to do a police safety talk at a local high school. 

Joseph, his nephew, was delighted Brett was coming to his school. 

Brett was...less delighted.

Brett had sat through his fair share of police safety talks as a kid. They were, at best, marginally boring, and at worst, painfully embarrassing.

Brett was not thrilled.

"You have a duty to serve and protect." His Sergeant reminded him.

Brett could not see how either of those had anything to do with this. He doubted Sarge Collins did either, if he was being honest. He had a tendency to parrot those eight words in response to anything, seeming to think they were an appropriate answer just like Brett's mom had seemed to think "Because I said so" was an appropriate answer to any of Brett's questions she didn't know the answer to when he was a kid. 

The Sergeant switched tactic.

"Don't you have a nephew who attends Midtown?"

That was unfair, Sarge. 

"Yea, Joseph, my brother's kid" 

"See? You'll get to see Joseph, does he know you're coming?"

Brett did not like where this was going. 

"Yes."

"Well, you wouldn't want to disappoint him, would you?"

Okay first of all, Joseph was fifteen, not five. He was looking forward to it, but didn't give too many fucks either way. And secondly, Brett could handle a little disappointment if it came to it. Joseph was easily the most good natured kid Brett knew, and it wouldn't take much for Brett to make it up to him. He was already envisioning a nice trip to the ice cream parlor all together. It had been a while since he'd seen his brother's family, so he'd probably do that regardless, but that was besides the point.

The Sergeant seemed to take Brett's silence as a surrender, and turned his attention to a form he was filling out on his desk.

Brett gave it one last shot.

"Sarge, I'm terrible with kids, seriously, Steph's great with kids can't she go instead?"

Brett got along smashingly with his nephews, but that did not translate to the general population of middle to high schoolers.

The Sergeant looked up.

"Steph is otherwise occupied that day"

Before Brett could gauge whether or not the Sarge's voice had enough patience left in it for Brett to attempt naming another coworker to take his place, he was dismissed.

Brett left the office in defeat.

"No luck?" Jess asked sympathetically.

He shook his head.

Connor poked his head out of the break room.

"You guys got stuck with school duty?"

Jess nodded.

Connor laughed, leaning against the doorframe. "Got that last year, so I'm free this round. Good luck guys" 

Brett appreciated it. 

"This sucks" Jess muttered to Brett. It was almost eerily quiet, and the sound of every footstep was magnified as they walked down the hallway. The most noise was the occasional chatter of voices from behind closed doors, but even that was kept at a reasonable volume. Brett couldn't recall his school ever being this quiet.

The janitor who'd let them in was walking a few paces ahead, far enough for Brett to risk whispering back to Jess.

"I know, but we just gotta go through with it. Besides, they're just kids."

"Yea I know" she said reluctantly.

After a quick talk with the principal, the two were off.

After going through two or three classes, Brett had to admit, this wasn't too bad. Would he choose to be here? No. Would he rather be at the precinct? Yes.

But nonetheless, things were tolerable. The kids were well behaved, attentive and polite for the most part. They asked many questions, which Brett was positive was just an attempt to stall having to return to doing class, but nonetheless, it was an engaging experience. 

Brett arrived to Joseph's class eventually, earning a grin and wave from the back row, and then, finally, they got to the last class of the day.

A class of sophomores watched them curiously as they entered. Brett gave the presentation speech then stepped back to let Jess present her first part. As he surveyed the classroom, his eyes came upon one kid in the middle row who looked like he was trying to sink into his seat and disappear. 

It was the fish kid. 

Peter.

If Brett could've laughed out loud in that moment, he would've have. 

  
  


After the presentation, it was question time. 

It had been a long morning for all of them, so participation was scarcer, but hands were up and the questions still kept coming in. 

"What's the stupidest call you've taken or the weirdest things you've seen on patrol?" A dark haired girl in the front row asked.

Peter sunk lower into his seat and cast Brett a look. 

"Oh, that's a hard question, we get stupid calls all the time" he answered. He told them all the story of the lady who called the precinct regularly for the wildest of reasons.

Brett couldn't resist adding.

"Oh, and for example, just last week I met a teenager carrying a fish with the word

Susfishous written on it in marker and wearing a tshirt that said "Something smells fishy."

The class was delighted at this. Peter, not so much. 

Sorry kid, you brought that upon yourself. 

"Not too bad, huh?" Jess asked him as they made their way down the steps outside the school and back to car. 

"Not too bad" Brett agreed.

* * *

Brett was on patrol with Alina when they received a call about a fight two blocks away.

The fight was already over when the two arrived to the scene. Though, from what he had been told, it wasn't a fight as much as one of the two parties involved knocking the lights out of the other a few seconds into the skirmish.

Brett was genuinely impressed at that despite himself. It really wasn't easy to do that, despite what one might think from watching movies.

His shoes crunched on a shard of broken plastic as he knelt by the motionless man on the sidewalk, checking his pulse. He was clearly unconscious, with a bruise blooming on one jaw, but apart from that, seemed relatively unharmed. 

Alina had already started calling an ambulance to come pick the man up. 

Brett got back up to his feet.

Behind him stood two teenagers, the other two people involved in the incident and responsible for knocking the man out.

They had been arguing incessantly since Brett and Alina had arrived, in a furious whispered conversation.

"I didn't mean to punch him that hard!" 

"You knocked him out! I had a pepper spray that would've worked fine!"

"How was I supposed to know you had a pepper spray?"

"I always have a pepper spray on me surely you knew that"

Brett turned to them and they instantly shut up.

A pleasant man with graying hair and a gravelly voice had made the call from a small store across the street, having seen the scene. 

After having called the ambulance, Alina crossed the road to the shop to get the man's statement, while Brett walked up to the teens.

Closer now, he recognized them. 

The first was Peter, who Brett kept meeting for whatever reason. The girl looked slightly familiar too, Brett must've seen her when he'd gone to the school.

They stood awkwardly under a nearby street lamp casting orange light over the ground, on an otherwise dark street.

Peter had a bruise on one cheek. The girl was holding her head in her hands.

"You again" Brett said dryly.

"Sorry" Peter muttered. The girl whipped around to look at him, eyes narrowing at the implications of a cop recognizing him.

"Are you hurt?" Brett asked. They both shook their heads.

"So" Brett raised an eyebrow. "Care to tell me what happened here?"

The story was simple enough. 

The two of them had been sitting at the bus stop alone when a drunk man had come over and started harassing them. They'd repeatedly and forcefully told him to leave them alone, to no avail. When the man started started getting physical, Peter, had gotten up to try to reason, gotten punched, and punched him back in retaliation.

Brett had knelt over the man earlier. Unconcious or not, the smell of alcohol on his breath had been undeniable.

Brett compared their story to the one Alina had gotten from the store owner. 

"It checks out" she said, leaning against the car and flipping a couple of pages.

"The man saw a man bothering the two, kept an eye on it and called the police once things got physical."

Brett had met Peter before. Was he an idiot? Certainly. Was he a bad kid? Brett didn't think so. 

"Okay here's what we'll do" Brett told them. "You stay here until the ambulance arrives, which should be soon, then after the paramedics check you over, you can go home."

"I'm not hurt" Peter protested.

"You have a bruise on one cheek and you've been cradling your hand for the past ten minutes" Brett replied evenly. 

Peter dropped his hand, which only served to prove Brett's point.

The girl touched his shoulder and spoke to him quietly for a second. Afterwards, Peter agreed to stay. 

The two sat down on the bus stop bench while they all waited for the ambulance to arrive.

Brett took their names down for the report, Peter Parker and Michelle Jones.

As he wrote, he glanced at the two. They didn't seem shaken at all, despite having just been assaulted by a drunk man. Michelle's expression was unreadable, while Peter's was a mix of annoyance and worry. 

"Would you like to call your parents to come pick you up?" Alina asked them kindly.

Michelle nodded. "I messaged my dad, he's on his way."

Brett looked at Peter.

"My aunt's got a night shift, she can't come. But I uh, I asked a family friend who lives nearby to come over" He looked sheepish. "He's a lawyer."

"Hey Brett " 

Brett jumped despite himself and Alina swore under her breath. Peter grinned.

"Nice timing"

Brett turned to see none other than Matt Murdock standing behind him.

It figured that if any lawyer knew this kid, it would be Matt.

Matt smacked Peter over the head with surprising accuracy for a blind man. 

Peter yelped, rubbing his head and glaring at him. He looked at Brett, almost as if asking him "Can you believe this?"

Matt payed him no heed.

"What did he do?"

Brett quickly relayed the situation. Matt visibly relaxed. 

"Oh thank god, I thought it'd be something worse."

Considering the fact that out of the four times Brett had met Peter, three of them had been in questionable situations, Brett could see how Matt had jumped to that conclusion. 

Despite the fact that there was no need for a lawyer, Matt didn't leave, and Michelle's dad arrived not long after, both staying until the paramedics arrived.

Michelle was unharmed, and Peter ended up with just a bruised fist. Brett had been positive he'd seen a bruise on the boy's face earlier, but there was no sign of it now. He must've imagined it.

Peter was lucky enough as it was, most untrained people throwing a punch, especially one strong enough to knock someone out, would have most certainly broken their hand. Peter was a scrawny boy, but he sure packed a punch. Reconsidering, maybe he _was_ trained in boxing or something of the sort to achieve what he'd done and come out of it with little more than a bruised hand.

Matt and Peter bickered continuously, almost comically, through the whole thing. Michelle, seemingly used to this behavior, just rolled her eyes and occasionally told them to shut up, to which, surprisingly, both complied, at least for a few seconds, before getting into another argument. 

Afterwards, after Michelle had left with her dad, Matt offered to accompany Peter home, an offer he accepted after some insisting. Honestly, it just seemed like that wanted something else to jabber about. It was obvious there was no real heat in their quips, a fact that was confirmed by their relaxed body language and the casual way Peter leaned into Matt's side.

Brett had never seen Matt act like this with anyone except Foggy.

When Peter had said "Family friend", this was not what Brett had been expecting.

Brett found himself back at Midtown High once again not long after, this time for a non police related reason.

Joseph's Science fair. 

Joseph had mentioned it when they'd gone out for ice cream, and had invited Brett, who'd obviously accepted. It was being held in the school gym, and the place had been set up with rows of folding tables for the kids to display their work. Brett sought out his nephew's stand straight away, admiring and asking questions on the project he'd done on bacteria. 

The kid had a bright future ahead of him.

As the fair dragged on, Brett wandered around, looking at the different projects with varying degrees of interest despite his own non existent passion for science. 

"Brett!" A familiar voice called out. Brett turned to see none other than Foggy Nelson walking towards him. They met in the middle and clasped hands, grinning. 

"Hey Foggy, what are you doing here?" 

As far as Brett knew, Foggy didn't have any young cousins or nephews attending Midtown.

"Oh, I'm here with Matt." 

He held up a wrapped sandwich. "I just went to get food"

Brett glanced around. "Where _is_ Matt?" 

Foggy started walking again. "Just up ahead, want to come?"

Brett followed him till they finally stopped just on the edge of a small group crowded around a stand, out of which Brett recognized the four judges.

"The kid's presenting, so give it a few." Foggy muttered.

The kid?

In the center of it stood Peter, out of all people, explaining in a loud and clear voice.

"Motherfucker" Brett muttered under his breath.

Foggy looked at him strangely. "You know him?"

"Unfortunately" Brett replied offhandedly, not really meaning it.

Foggy frowned but didn't ask him to elaborate. 

"Where's Matt?" Brett asked.

Foggy pointed to a space just left of Peter.

Matt stood next to a middle aged woman, both of them looking like proud parents. 

All right.

Brett turned to Foggy. "Foggy is that Matt's kid?"

"That old? There's no way he could have a kid that old" Foggy pointed out.

Brett did some quick math in his head. True. "Alright, still. Foster son or distant relative or something"

Brett would've thrown in close relative, but Matt, well. There was no other way to put it than that Matt had little friends and even less family.

"Why would he keep that secret?" Foggy said.

"You know how he is. He's weirdly secretively for no reason"

Foggy conceded that he had a point there, but continued nevertheless.

"Brett I don’t know what to tell you here, he’s not related to Matt” 

“Bullshit, what are you two doing here then?”

“Being responsible members of the community by supporting the youths, Brett, jeez"

Brett didn't need to be a cop to smell the bullshit on that lie from a mile away. 

Peter must've finished his presentation, because the judges nodded, making some notes on clipboards, before passing onto the next stand, as the crowd dispersed.

The woman standing near Matt hugged Peter energetically. "You were wonderful!" She exclaimed.

Peter ducked out of her grasp, grinning nonetheless.

"I hoped they liked it" he said shyly.

He spotted Foggy and his eyes lit up.

"Is that the food? I'm starving"

Foggy handed him a paper bag and Peter rifled through it, pulling out a tuna sandwich and unwrapping it. 

"Thanks Foggy" he said with his mouth half full.

"Don't talk with your mouth full" Matt said with mock seriousness.

Peter wrinkled his nose at him. 

"Peter, this is Brett Mahoney, though I gathered you've met before?" Foggy said.

Peter choked on the sandwich. "Hi Officer"

Brett waved it off, slightly uncomfortable. "Just Brett is fine"

"Oh don't even bother, he'll just call you Officer or Mr. Mahoney" Matt interjected.

Peter smacked him, which seemed to be the default response to whatever the other said.

The woman who'd hugged Peter smiled at Brett, holding out a hand to shake. "I'm May Parker, Peter's aunt."

Brett shook her hand.

Peter had passed the bag over to Matt, who was rummaging in it fruitlessly.

"Foggy is the chocolate in here?" He asked.

"It should, why would it not? Did you put it back after you ate it in the car?"

Matt smiled at Foggy charmingly.

Foggy groaned. 

"I'm not going back to get it"

Matt frowned. "Please?"

"Get it yourself"

"I have a hard time with the crowd without my stick" he said plaintively. Now that he mentioned it, Brett noticed Matt was without a stick. He must've lost it again, which was frankly a far too common occurrence.

It had always amazed Brett how functionally disastrous Matt was.

Brett knew Foggy well enough to be able to tell he was giving in.

"Fine" he said finally. "But this is the _last time_ "

Matt smiled, satisfied with himself. May Parker shook her head at Matt and Peter. "I'll come with you Foggy"

That left Brett with Matt and Peter.

"So, how do you guys know each other? Are you related?" He asked casually after a bit.

Matt nudged Peter. "Are we related?"

"We're distant relatives that met on the subway by chance" Peter told Brett in complete seriousness.

Brett stared.

"Fifth cousins twice removed that met at a pumpkin patch" Matt added.

"Our great grandparents were best friends"

"He found my dog after I lost him"

"You have a dog?" Peter asked him. 

"No."

"What's going on?" Foggy asked from behind them. 

Oh thank god Foggy was back. 

"Brett wants to know if we're related" Matt explained.

Foggy stopped, evaluating the statement. "Step siblings reunited after years?"

Apparently that was the right answer, as Matt gave him another charming smile.

Foggy shrugged.

"They have a shit sense of humor, just go along with it, man" He told Brett.

Brett looked at May Parker for help.

She laughed. "Don’t ask me, I'm just here to keep these two out of trouble"

Peter and Matt smiled innocently.

Brett had nothing left to say.

Peter held out the paper bag, eyes sparking with mischief.

"Sandwich?"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm so sorry this took so long to update I was so horrifically stuck on this chapter. I'm not particularly happy with it, but it was hanging over my head for so long and it's a relief to finally get it out of the way.  
> Thank you for reading!


	5. Karen

Karen had decided, she was going to interview Spiderman. The vigilante had been mainstream news recently, and, with all his popularity, an interview with him would make a great story. Karen had already started feverishly compiling a list of interview questions on a napkin in between writing articles instead of sleeping.

It had been a rough couple of nights.

One would think that Karen, out of all people, would have no problem getting an interview with Spiderman. Just ask Matt to ask Spidey, and they were set.

However, there was a problem with this plan.  
According to Karen, the problem was Matt. According to Matt, the problem were the pies.  
According to Foggy, both she and Matt were the problem as both of them were too stupidly stubborn over the wrong things.  
Foggy was probably right. 

Anyway, Karen blamed Matt.

The pie situation had started about a month ago. Matt insisted that the best blueberry pie in New York was from Josy's, the small corner shop two blocks from his office. Karen was adamant that the actual best pie place was from the lovely café she'd discovered near Foggy's house, with the pink and white stripped awning and matching furniture.  
Foggy didn't like blueberry pie at all, which was a tragedy of it's own. That last fact however meant that they had no impartial person to break the tie, and they had reached a stalemate.  
The situation had deescalated to the two of them just sitting in Matt and Foggys office every Friday eating pie together, fruitlessly trying to convince the other that their pie was better. Foggy was convinced this was just an excuse for the two of them to eat pie together, something neither of them would confirm or deny.

It had been during one of these pie meetings that Karen had brought up the Spiderman interview and the request for Matt to introduce them. Matt had gotten that shit eating grin he got when he got a horrible idea and sure enough, he told her he'd only introduce them if she admitted that his pie was best. Which was an asshole move, but one Karen could respect. There was no way she was accepting, or, at the very least, she wasn't going to give in so easily.  
Karen set out to find Spiderman on her own terms.  
Which, she soon found out, was _hard_.  
Spiderman disliked the police and most of the press, and, given the fact they had a tendency to make him out as the bad guy, was well deserved. Karen fruitlessly tried to find him for days to no avail.  
She actually saw him on the street once while stress eating a taco, and had dropped said taco in her haste to try to go talk to him, but Spiderman had swung away a few seconds later, leaving Karen without a lead and without a taco.  
Matt had laughed at her about that.  
The fucker had probably sensed what had happened across half the city. Karen redoubled her efforts.  
She ended up coming across a good half dozen article worthy stories in her mad city wide frenzy, and had opted to get them done as soon as possible, both so that they wouldn't hang over his head and so that she would have something to publish, a safety net of a sort while she worked on the Spiderman situation.

Karen went as far as to try to ask Frank about it. She wasn't sure whether or not he knew Spiderman in the first place, but it was worth a shot. And if he did, he'd surely help her if he knew doing so would piss off Matt. Frank answered in a single message.  
Frank: Met him, don't know him well.

That was one lead that had gone nowhere.

Ellison came to her office one night and had told her she was working too much and that she needed to rest.  
Karen appreciated the advice but ultimately decided to ignore it.  
"So, how's it going with the Spiderman interview thing you wanted to do?" He asked. "If you can get it done soon it'll be better for everyone. Have you seen the picture of Spiderman the Bugle got of him this morning? Spectacular shot, we need to up our game if we want to be able to compete with them. An interview with the man himself would do it"  
Karen leaned back in her chair, rubbing her forehead. "Yea, about that. I'm sorry it's taking so long I'm having some unexpected problems"  
Ellison's brow furrowed and he stepped inside completely, closing the door. "What kinds of problems?"  
The problem was that Daredevil is a fuckhead, but Karen couldn't say that.  
Ellison lowered his voice even thought there was no one else around.  
"You know Daredevil, can't you just ask him?"

"Yea that's.. kinda the problem"

"Did you have a falling out with Daredevil?"

Yes.  
No.  
It was a pie feud for heavens sake.  
Karen couldn't say that either.  
Ellison face dropped. "Oh I'm sorry Karen"

Karen stood up hastily. "No! It's not that. Don't worry about it, I'll have it done soon."  
He still looked unconvinced.  
"Really" she pressed

"All right" he gave in.

If Karen was going to get this interview done "soon", she was going to have to find a new strategy.

__  
There are a guest at Matt's office this Friday evening, joining them for the after hours pie. Normally it was just her and Matt with Foggy keeping them company occasionally, but today, a teenager boy, the new intern, was staying too. According to Foggy, he wasn't a new intern as much as an old intern who had started working here again recently.

"I suspended him from working for a month" Matt told her, sipping tea. 

Karen couldn't see why one would suspend someone's internship. Why not just fire him? Or not suspend him in the first place?

"Don't ask" Foggy mouthed at her.

Matt placed two pieces of pie in front of the boy, who'd been introduced to Karen as Peter.  
"Try these two pies, and tell us which one you think is better."

Peter glanced at the two pies, then at the two of them. "Who's pie is who's?"

"Won't tell you that, it'll bias you"

Peter shrugged. "Fair enough"  
He picked up a fork and took bite of the first, then the second pie.

Matt and Karen watched him intently.  
"I'll be honest these both taste identical" Peter admitted. 

Both Matt and Karen were extremely offended by this. Peter took another bite. "Are you sure you didn't give me two pieces of the same pie?"

"We're sure" Karen replied.

"Your heartbeat is off. You're lying". Matt announced gleefully.

Karen started at that. "He knows?"

"He knows" Matt confirmed.

Peter grinned. "Maybe I'm lying, maybe I'm not. You have no way to prove it to Miss Paige anyway."

Matt sputtered.  
Karen smiled.

She liked the kid, and told Matt as much later.  
"He's a nightmare" Matt groaned. 

"That's rich coming from you"

"Fine fine, point taken. But you'll see what I mean."  
__

Peter eventually admitted to heavily favoring one of the pies, but refused to tell which one.  
It was driving all of them insane.

"I'll tell eventually, just not now" he told Karen one day.

"Why the wait?"

Peter grinned.  
"Leverage. Also it's funny as fuck."

That little shit.  
He made a good point though.

__

Peter was a photographer, Karen found out.  
Curious, Karen asked to see his camera roll one day, and found them filled with shots of the city, teenagers who Karen assumed were his friends, and, interestingly enough, a disproportionately high amount of shots of Spiderman.

"How do you have so many pictures of Spiderman?" Karen asked. 

Peter shrugged.  
"Met him often, took pics of him often, we kinda got to know each other. I'm just lucky I guess"

"Lucky implies meeting Spidey a lot as a positive thing" Matt muttered.

Peter smacked him. "Don't be rude"

A puzzle piece clicked into place.  
"Is that how you met Matt? Through Spiderman?"

Foggy snorted on his coffee.

"Sure let's go with that" Peter replied.

Karen finally connected the dots between the name credited under the Bugle's Spiderman pics and the teenager standing in front of her.

"You're the Bugle's photographer"

"That's me"

Does Spidey mind that you sell pictures of him to a newspaper that gives him bad press all the time?" Karen asked.

Peter smiled, as if he found something about the question amusing. "He doesn't mind"

Along with the more professional pics were an assortment of weirder, random ones. For example, a picture of an overflowing bin of colorful trash. 

"Oh I liked the colors. I thought they looked cool" Peter had explained.

This was like the photography version of Matt bringing home shit he found interesting off the streets. Karen could see why the two of them got along so well.  
Also, she'd just figured out what her new strategy for the interview was going to be.

Karen smiled sweetly at Peter, ignoring the growing "oh fuck" on Matt's face as he realised what her plan was.  
"So Peter, what do you like to do for fun?"  
__

"Why is there a teenager in our office?" Ellison asked. "And isn't today your day off?"  
He eyed her with a healthy amount of concern.

Karen whirled around midway through emptying her drawer. "Hey, have you seen my camera? I forgot it here, that's why I'm here today. Oh, and that's Peter. Don't worry about him, we're leaving soon"

"You didn't technically answer the question" Ellison pointed out.

"Ah right." Karen momentarily halted her rummaging. "I just needed to swing by to get my camera and I felt bad about leaving him downstairs since I didn't know how long it'd take me to find it so I'm letting him hang out in the main office for the time being."

"Was having him harass Paul with questions part of that plan"

"No but now that you mention it, Paul could use some harassing. He's so slow."

Ellison didn't dispute that. 

"Peter's also the Bugle's Spiderman photographer" Karen added as a fun side note.

"You're going to have to run that last part by me again.The Bugle's photographer is a high school student?" Ellison said skeptically.

"Crazy right?"

"Not that it's any of my business but what are you doing with the Bugle's teenage photographer?"

Karen had finally managed to locate her camera. "Photography" she said with a bright smile. "And talking about journalism. He's curious about it."

She joined Elllison by the door. 

"Is this part of a plan to get a Spiderman interview" Ellison asked wearily.

"Originally, yes it was. But he's a genuinely great kid so honestly I just spend time with him because it's enjoyable now. Don't worry about the interview thing though."

"Alright" Ellison. "I'll trust you on whatever this is."  
__

It was a few days later, while they were getting a coffee, that Karen finally asked the question that had started it all.  
Here went nothing. "So." she began.

Peter looked up in mild interest.

"I hate to ask you this, but Matt's being a dick, is there any chance you could get me an interview with Spiderman? I've been trying for weeks, and story like that would sell like crazy, and our newspaper could really use it"  
Karen finished. 

Peter took a long sip of his latte before answering. "So that's the leverage Matt has over you in the pie situation?"

"How do you even know about that. What does even Matt talk to you about?"

"That's classified information. And sure, I can get you an interview with Spiderman"

Karen couldn't hide her grin. "Awesome, thanks Pete."  
They could work out details later.

Karen picked up her muffin and bit into it with relish.  
Today was going to be a good day. 

That was, until approximately 27 minutes later, when Peter proceeded to get hit by a car.  
___

"Get hit" wasn't quite the right word. It was more of a "voluntarily throwing oneself into the path of a moving car." 

Why?? Why would he do something so irrational?? So stupid??  
All Karen's panic stricken mind could do was repeat those two questions over and over as she hurried onto the middle of the street. 

Oh.  
Amidst the quickly forming crowd in front of a small child stood in front of the car, looking around with tear filled eyes, frightened at the commotion but unaware of how nearly they'd just escaped death.

The car had breaked and swerved, but not fast enough to avoid the girl. Or at least, had Peter not been there. It hadn't been fast enough to avoid Peter either.

Peter's hood was still up, how it hadn't fallen off during his mad leap was a miracle. He lay on the ground, hands braced against floor, panting.

Then, he took off, disappearing into the nearest alley. 

Karen pushed through the crowd and ran after him.

"Peter!"  
Her hand reached for her phone to call 911 as she ran.

"Karen! Don't call emergency services, please"

Karen nearly ran straight into him, he'd stopped in a secluded spot at a bend in the road.

Karen stared at him. "Don't. What??"

He held his hands up. "I'm okay, really."  
Winced slightly. "My hands are a little sore and I've ruined my jeans but apart from that I'm fine."

"How." Karen's voice took a hysterical note. "How are you fine"

He shrugged, stuffing his hands into his pockets. "You still want me to do that interview?"

With that, he looked at her meaningfully.

Oh.  
__

_Matthew what the fuck_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Someone commented a while ago that they were rereading the fic and the fact that someone liked my work enough to read it a second time inspired me to write another chapter. Hope y'all liked it, I'm a little out of practice lol.


End file.
